


Of All the Stars Aligned

by the_sylph_of_mind



Series: We'll Fuse When We Collide [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Blindness, Canonical Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Reunions, Soulmates, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19045597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sylph_of_mind/pseuds/the_sylph_of_mind
Summary: “All hail the King of Light!”As Cor calls to hail the King, you momentarily pass your gaze to the men standing behind him in solidarity as you repeat the salute with your companions. They’re in Kingsglaive uniforms, raising their fists reverently for their King. The blond one is even weeping like you and some of the other Hunters. You feel a moment of compassion with him and move your gaze to the tallest of the group—whom you recognize upon closer scrutiny as Gladiolus Amicitia, the Shield. A burst of adrenaline floods your system. If these men aren’t just random Glaives, if they’re actually Crownsguard—King Noctis’ royal retinue, somehow reunited with him after a decade of being cast to the wind—then that means…You flick your eyes to the third man, visible now as King Noctis moves from the center of the room, and a sob escapes you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We're in the endgame now c:  
> If you're a new reader, welcome! I strongly recommend reading the previous work in this series before you dive into this one.  
> If you're a veteran, welcome back :)  
> Please enjoy!

* * *

 

 

_I will travel the distance in your eyes_

_Interstellar light years from you_

_Supernova; we’ll fuse when we collide_

_Awaking in the light of all the stars aligned_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

When the Marshal steps purposefully into the Hunter’s HQ, at first the atmosphere remains as it was: heavy, dark, like the miasma that covers the sun permeates the spirits of the Hunters. For some it’s more literal. Once contracted, the Scourge slowly eats away at the soul. It makes those who fall ill lose their humanity bit by bit until they are truly lost souls, transformed into daemons and filled with the desire to kill. It is a cruel process. With Lady Lunafreya dead there is no way to combat the Scourge in its early stages. Blessed few Hunters have fallen victim, but with no vaccine or Divine Light, death is the only mercy you and the Hunters can give to the Scourged.

You hear additional heavy boots falling in step behind the Marshal and you lift your gaze to see which Hunters he’s brought back with him. You’re taken aback as four new faces line up in the entrance to the HQ. They must have been gathered from well outside Lestallum if you don’t immediately recognize them. If that’s the case, it’s incredible that they haven’t fallen ill, so far from the light bathing Lestallum, keeping the daemons and miasma at bay. Cor opens his arms, gesturing to the men that follow him in.

“Good news, everyone,” He pauses briefly as eyes gather on him. “Your King has returned.”

The darkest of the four men steps to the focus, and it takes the room a few moments to comprehend what Cor is announcing so straightforwardly. It’s difficult to recognize him now. His eyes have sunken and a beard has grown unkempt upon his jaw, but you could never forget your Prince—now your King—finally returned to Insomnia. You stand swiftly with the rest of the Hunters, partly out of duty, partly because the shock of disbelief mixed with joy is so sudden and absolute that it spurs you to action, like kinetic energy that needs release. Gasps and cries of “Your Highness!” flutter through the room as everyone rushes forward a few paces. You clutch your fist to your heart in a salute like the other Hunters do, but soon find yourself crumbling into tears of relief as your King begins to speak.

“Brothers and sisters, brave warriors of Lucis, you’ve done well these ten years, and I thank you. You’ve done so much, all for my sake. Even as the darkness overcame our world, we kept the Light alive in our hearts.”

King Noctis addresses the group, and his voice is soft, sad, but full of conviction just like his father’s, who you served and mourned with the citizens of Insomnia so long ago as the walls, old and new, crumbled during the Imperial invasion.

“We’ve all lost friends and loved ones along the way, but the one thing we never lost was hope,” King Noctis continues, indeed speaking the truth: his return brings a renewed hope for your future, but also dredges up painful memories from your past. The old wound from the mutiny Drautos led against the Crown never really healed. You never really learned to trust unconditionally again, even though the Word of Ruin in which you now live calls for it. You even keep Libertus at a civil distance, despite his decade-long commitment to atone for what small part he played in the fall of Insomnia, gathering Hunters and making the remains of the Kingsgaive a beacon in the early days of the darkness. It doesn’t really change how you feel. You just have to watch from arm’s length as the Hunters who were not part of the Kingsglaive, part of that betrayal, share the undiluted camaraderie you once felt and very dearly miss. You miss Crowe. You miss Nyx and Sirius. You miss Luche too, damn him, and the other bastards that brought about the fall of Insomnia. You miss your friends.

“Brothers and sisters, I ask you to stand by me and fight at my side—for the Light and for the future of our world!”

A cheer runs through the gathered hunters, and through your tears you raise your fist to the air with him.

“All hail the King of Light!”

As Cor calls to hail the King, you momentarily pass your gaze to the men standing behind him in solidarity as you repeat the salute with your companions. They’re in Kingsglaive uniforms, raising their fists reverently for their King. The blond one is even weeping like you and some of the other Hunters. You feel a moment of compassion with him and move your gaze to the tallest of the group—whom you recognize upon closer scrutiny as Gladiolus Amicitia, the Shield. A burst of adrenaline floods your system. If these men aren’t just random Glaives, if they’re actually Crownsguard—King Noctis’ royal retinue, somehow reunited with him after a decade of being cast to the wind—then that means…

You flick your eyes to the third man, visible now as King Noctis moves from the center of the room, and a sob escapes you.

He’s older now. Darker. Scars etch his face, his lips, his brows, but his marred features remain handsome and recognizable under the years and injuries you had not been present to witness. The shock of sudden emotion again inspires movement without thought, the kinetic energy of relief, love, longing, all consuming you completely and spurring you forward toward Ignis Scientia.

You slow after only a pace or two as the men flanking Ignis step closer to him, sharing a private moment. The Hunters around you are all gathering toward King Noctis, reaching out to clasp a hand or a shoulder, Noctis opening his arms to reunite with his people. You realize now is not the time to ask Ignis if he remembers you. Now is the time to momentarily celebrate the return of your King, the return of the Light, the promise of the purging of the Starscourge. You brokenly stumble forward with the rest of your Hunters and reach to touch King Noctis.

He’s smiling softly, looking each of the gathered Lucians in the eye meaningfully. Your fingers graze his wrist and his gaze turns to you. His eyes are a tired, dark cobalt blue, nearly black like ice. You’re so close to the King; You: someone who used to be just a Glaive, and before that just some random Lucian citizen, someone who a lifetime ago would have no business anywhere near the throne room, let alone touching hands with the King. But none of that matters anymore. The World of Ruin removes the circumstance of blood separating you from Noctis. Now you’re two people of Eos, two humans tired of the darkness, and with the tactile proof that Noctis isn’t a hallucination your sobs return. You’re two warriors of Lucis, grateful for a prophecy upheld.


	2. Chapter 2

The sobs and cheers around the room having slowly subsided, Cor takes the helm once more and begins distributing assignments in light of the encouraging development. He urges the four men to eat, rest, sleep if they can, and directs them to a small room lined with bunk beds. Noctis nods and smiles wryly.

“Being asleep for a decade can really take it out of you. I’m beat.” You overhear, and he makes his way to the sleeping quarters, beds rotating meaninglessly between Hunters, and now your King as well. The blond one scurries after him, catching his sleeve and slowing his movements at the door. Noctis turns and warmly engages with his friend, and Gladiolus with several long strides joins them.

“Prompto, did you forget how much Noct sleeps? Whatever it is can wait until he’s up again.”

The name given stirs a murky corner of your mind. Prompto. Long ago Ignis might have said that name to you; you might have even spotted him once or twice—so this is Prompto. Just a civilian of Lucis, but King Noctis’ best friend, blessedly still alive for his return. It’s nice, and though you’ve been undeniably hardened by the past decade, your heart warms a little. You’re happy they can be reunited. Thinking back you grimace a little at how you hemmed and hawed about the difference in rank between you and Ignis while the Crown Prince’s best friend was just some high schooler. If you could go back, you wish you would not have spent those first uncertain weeks tip-toeing around Ignis because of his status. You didn’t know then how precious little time you had.

As you resurface from your thoughts you see Noctis still flanked by Prompto and Gladiolus, still engaged in conversation despite Gladio’s insistence that Noctis rest. A spark of adrenaline flits through your stomach as you realize Ignis is still standing at a distance, alone. He’s facing his companion’s conversation with crossed arms and his head cocked, a small smirk on his lips. He appears to be listening, but declining to take part. You smile a little. How very like him.

As you approach, you notice his glasses have been replaced with visors, mirrored to obscure his eyes. With each pace toward him your gut clenches, hoping he’ll notice a Hunter walking toward him and realize it’s you. You’re only a few steps away when the distance becomes too personally close, and you stop. He hasn’t looked your way, though you’re only a couple feet from him.

A beat passes, and you see him raise a brow and he tilts his head toward you. You feel an unnatural mixture of relief and anxiety as he acknowledges you. Your breath becomes shallow, waiting for him to speak.

“Can I help you?”

Your heart sinks.

“I-Ignis?”

“I am.”

You feel tears prick.

“You don’t remember me?”

There’s a breath of silence, and then a sad smile crosses Ignis’ features. He unfolds his arms and stands to his full height, seeming taller now with his hair like that, slicked up and back. He chuckles sadly, facing you fully and reaching for his visors.

“I’m sure I don’t know. I’m afraid you’ll need to tell me a few clues.” He says as he reveals his full features to you—You gasp, and your heart breaks in your chest.

His left eye is scarred shut, the dark flesh burned across his brow and cheekbone thinning his lashes. His right eye, though open, is clouded, the brilliant and beautiful depth of green you remember flattened and marred. A painful sob shakes your frame as it tears up your throat.

“Oh, Ignis, no…” You step toward him and close the distance without thinking, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. You see him balk for a moment at the unexpected contact, lips parting in surprise and eye shifting fruitlessly, reflexively trying to search for a face. You should tell him your name and end his confusion, but you’re beyond that part of reason, too deep in mourning his vision. Ignis doesn’t deserve this. Nobody does, but Ignis…Ignis’ whole disposition, his soul itself is like sight; like knowledge and fire and light and precision, and being robbed of his vision feels like a violation. Damn the Astrals for letting this perfect man lose something so precious to who he is.

“Wait, I don’t—” He begins, but in your sorrow, still mixed with the happiness of seeing him again, the relief of your King returning—in the midst of your muddled emotions all you can do is press your forehead to his. You have no words, you can’t bring yourself to speak, you just sob in the intimate space, clutching his face in your hands. Slowly Ignis brings his arms around you, resting them at your waist. Your breath hitches as he tentatively speaks your name.

“Is it you? Truly?” He says, breathlessly. Still unable to form words through the slurry of emotions tearing through you, you brush your nose to his and kiss him, lips trembling and salty with tears. Immediately Ignis clutches you to him, wrapping you in a crushing embrace as a small sob of his own bubbles in his throat. He pulls away from the kiss but keeps his forehead pressed to yours as he brings a hand up to his mouth and tears his glove away with his teeth,discarding it to the floor and fervently pressing his bare palm to your cheek.

“W-What happened?” You say through your tears, running your thumbs along his cheekbones and over the scars, the softness of flesh giving way to taught tissue. “Gods, Iggy, what happened?”

Hearing his pet name he crumbles into your touch, and you can sense his knees wobble dangerously though he manages to remain standing. Tears seep through the lids of his scarred eye, gathering in the lashes before they fall in uneven drops. He swallows and speaks hoarsely.

“It’s a long story. I assure you I’m just as capable as ever, though it took some time.”

“W-When? How long?” You gasp.

“…Altissia.” That’s all he says. It is all he needs to say. You know the day he’s talking about. The day Lady Lunafreya was murdered and the last defense against the Starscourge was snuffed out—until today. A raw chuckle cracks through your throat.

“Did you finally slip up and do something stupid?”

“I’d never slip up. I did what I had to. It just happened to be something stupid.” He smiles through his tears and kisses you again, pressing his hand to your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

“Gods Ignis, it’s so good to see you.” You say, pulling back just a little and wiping your tears with the heel of your palm. “After darkness fell, I never heard from you. I was afraid…afraid the Scourge…”

As you trail off into a choked sob, Ignis’ features draw together in a sharp sadness.

“I’m so very sorry to have put you through that, my dear. It’s for truly the most asinine of reasons, too. I lost my phone in the chaos of Altissia, and with Insomnia fallen and…this complication,” He pauses, indicating his inert eyes. “I had no way of tracking you down. I didn’t even know who to ask, where to search, which Glaives were trustworthy with the knowledge I was looking for you…I didn’t even know your full name.” He chuckles, the sound heavy. “I still don’t, I suppose. What a time to ask your middle name.”

You brokenly give your middle name, tears still falling unbidden. Ignis repeats it, committing it to memory.

“Beautiful. Just like you.” He says adoringly. You laugh incredulously. The past decade has been difficult for everyone. Presentation isn’t a priority to say the least, and you’ve got some prominent new scarring of your own.

“I’ve looked better,” You say playfully.

“Nonsense. You’re still alive, you’re still human, that’s already more than enough for me. Your soul has a beauty that ten years can’t deplete.”

“Oh, Ignis,” You clutch him to you in an embrace. Over his shoulder you spot Prompto staring at you two, and you’re unsure how long he’s been doing so. He nudges Gladiolus and King Noctis, and once with their attention wordlessly nods toward you and Ignis clasping each other close. You see Gladiolus take a surprised step back, incredulously raising a brow, but Noctis is beaming. In fact, his eyes look more alive than they did during his address to the Hunters, and he approaches the two of you as Ignis breaks the embrace, sensing his King’s presence.

“Iggy, I know I’ve only been back for a hot minute, but you didn’t tell me you had a girl.” He grins amicably at you and extends his hand for a formal introduction. You take it numbly.

“Y-Your Majesty,” You stutter.

“It’s…a little more complicated than that,” Ignis is blushing, bless him, but there’s still a smile playing about his mouth. Getting a closer look at you, you see Noct tilt his head, lips parting.

“Wait. I remember you.”

You’re struck dumb for a breath.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were at Iggy’s apartment…it was New Year’s Eve…Gods, that was a lifetime ago,” His gaze becomes a little saddened, focusing for a moment on something far off, but he blinks and a heartfelt grin spreads over his face. “I’m glad you two found each other again. Ignis really needs a girlfriend.” He chuckles; Ignis shifts on his feet and rubs the back of his neck, somewhere between hesitance, embarrassment, and agreement. King Noctis’ return, the fact that after meeting you once a decade ago he still remembers you, reuniting with Ignis…it’s all beginning to overwhelm you.

“King N-Noctis,” You begin, fighting the tremor in your diaphragm. “Your Majesty, it’s been so long…it’s been dark for so long,” You tremble as you clutch his hand, your words tumbling over each other, trying to convey to him what you’re feeling. “I’ve been—we’ve been so scared of the Scourge, but we never lost faith that you’d come back. Thank you…thank you for coming back to us…”

Perhaps a little struck by your raw emotions, Noctis is still for a beat, then he smiles a little sadly, gripping onto your hand tighter.

“Your faith in me is what brought me back, but I’m afraid I can’t stay long. I’ve got some dues to pay.”

Your brows knit in apprehensive confusion, but Ignis shifts his weight, like he’s resituating a burden he bears.

“My King?” You say, eyes wide and shining. Noctis sighs sorrowfully.

“It’s not going to come cheap, saving Eos and purging the Starscourge. I’ve been asleep for ten years, I guess that’s how long it takes for a soul to become strong enough to bond with the Old Kings’, but only just my soul. To finish the job, to really save everyone, it means I need to take the fight to the…other side, with the Six. They’re going to help me beat the darkness, at the cost of their lives as well.”

You watch him with wide eyes as he explains the process of his death to you. You’re silently crying as he speaks. He’s so different than he was when you spoke with him as a Prince. The grace of his words permeates your being.

“It’s been difficult for everyone. If I can do this the Scourge will end; dawn will break. It’s my thanks to you for protecting Lucis while I’ve been gone. I’ve made my peace, and the people of Lucis, my people, deserve all I can give them. I’m lucky,” He smiles wryly. “I can give so much, I can give them back their Light.”

He reaches out with his free hand and takes ahold of Ignis’. He easily obliges, tightening his grasp with his ungloved hand, the same he’d just moments ago been pressing to your cheek.

“I’m just one soul, and if it’s my destiny to trade my life so that the people of Eos, people like you, and Ignis,” He says, squeezing each of your hands he holds. “can have lives in the Light, then I won’t hesitate. Maybe once I would have, but not now. Not anymore.”

Noctis turns his eyes to Ignis with a brotherly smile as he continues,

“Ignis is the best man I’ve ever met. He’d do anything for me. He has!” He says, chuckling at a private memory. “This isn’t just about my destiny as the Chosen King. This is also about my friends. I can’t imagine how my life would have turned out without them watching my back,” He casts his eyes fondly back toward Prompto and Gladio, the two of them conversing quietly and flicking their gaze to Ignis every few moments. “And they deserve to live in a world without the Scourge. What kind of friend would I be to stick around if it meant the Scourge did, too?”

Ignis is silently weeping, clutching Noctis’ hand, but his features remain reverent.

“So listen, both of you. All this whole prophecy thing comes down to is everyone deserving to live happily, right? So whatever complicated thing you two have, if it makes you happy, especially you, Iggy,” He grins around his teasing words and Ignis chuckles through his tears. “…know that you have my blessing. If you’re important to Ignis, that’s good enough for me. Ignis took care of me my whole life, I know he’ll take care of you.” He squeezes your hand one more time before letting go of you and Ignis, the connection of your spirits through him subsiding. Indeed, you feel like you’ve been bestowed something, some magic charm that would protect your love for each other.

“Yes, My King,” You say, too astonished to reply otherwise.

“Thank you, Noct…” Ignis says barely above a whisper, genuine love in his words as he brushes the tears from his cheeks.

“Saying that it’s the least I can do might be an understatement, and I think I remember telling you that if you are who Ignis says you are, then I’m Noct to you.” Noctis grins solemnly, the tiredness returning to his features. “I really am beat, though. Two speeches in like ten minutes is rough. I’ll see you around.” And just like that, like the Prince from ten years ago, he shuffles off to the sleeping quarters. You hear the distinct sound of his body flopping onto a naked mattress and then there’s silence.

With hardly a moment to collect yourself, Prompto is skittering toward you and Ignis, followed closely but reluctantly by Gladiolus, like a puppy dragging along its human.

“Who is SHE?” Prompto clamors, not even directing his words at Ignis as he grasps onto your hand, displaying the toothiest grin you’ve ever seen. “Who is she who has the power to warm Iggy’s frozen heart? I gotta know.”

You vaguely, so very vaguely recall Ignis once describing Prompto as “energetic.” You understand now. Rattled, you introduce yourself.

“Prompto, please—” Ignis starts, but it’s a fruitless endeavor. He is practically vibrating. You have to admit his demeanor is infectious, and you find yourself smiling and chatting with him easily. A broad hand clutches the top of Prompto’s head and steers him away unceremoniously, but Prompto hardly seems to notice, still talking to you until he’s been maneuvered completely behind Gladio, who keeps the hand atop Prompto’s head, his arm behind his back as he extends his other hand to you for a shake.

“He used to be worse, believe it or not.” He says teasingly. “My name’s Gladio.”

“And I’m a jackass, pleased to meet you.” You hear Prompto’s voice chime from behind Gladio’s back, an octave lower and in a condescending tone. Gladio rolls his eyes, and you hear an indignant “Ow!” escape Prompto.

“I’ve got questions too, but unlike _some_ ,” He pauses pointedly and you hear Prompto grumble, “I can tell when people are a little overwhelmed. It’s been hectic for all of us once we found Noct again, but it looks like you and Iggy doubled down on the reuniting. Come chat when you’re feeling up to it, though. I need to know how stick-in-the-mud here scored a girl so cute.”

“Thank you, _Gladio_.” Ignis says, exasperated. You can’t help but blush a little at the bold flirtation, but the grin on Gladio’s face lets you know it’s all in good fun to get under Ignis’ skin. It seems to be working too as Ignis shoos them away, Gladio still leading Prompto backward by the top of his head, and Prompto waving goodbye enthusiastically as he stumbles back, still talking to you as the pair make an exit until they disappear from your line of sight.

“Wow. I like your friends.”

“They are irreplaceable, if a little annoying at times.” He replies with a genuine grin, taking your hand in his. “Are you hungry? Is there a kitchen?”

You remember the meals Ignis cooked for you during your time together so long ago and immediately your mouth begins to water. Monica is handy with food, but you’ve never eaten like you did when Ignis was in the kitchen.

“I’m starving,” You say, brimming with eagerness as you lead him to the cooking quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this reunion scene written for about ten months, and I'm so, so proud and pleased and blessed to finally share it with you all. I think it's my best bit of writing to date :3


	3. Chapter 3

He’d asked you what you wanted, but truth be told it doesn’t matter. Whatever Ignis cooks for you, you’ll love. You list for him what’s stocked in the kitchen, opening and inspecting the contents of cabinets and fridge drawers. Hand to his chin, he considers the ingredients at hand and after pondering silently for a moment snaps his fingers. Astrals, he’s so endearing.

He asks, somewhat abashed, if you could gather up the necessary ingredients and cooking instruments for him, since he’s unfamiliar with this kitchen and doesn’t know where everything is stored. Your heart cracks again. It’s so like Ignis to not let something as dire as blindness slow him down, but even he has his limits.

“What are you going to cook?” You ask, flitting around the kitchen and passing each item to Ignis individually so he can identify what it is, then set it down purposefully, noting where everything is so he can return to what he needs, when he needs it throughout cooking.

“And ruin the surprise?” He says with a coy smile. Your heart twists at his words. Intentionally or not, he’d harkened back to one of your first interactions, texting him on the trainon your way to what the two of you would eventually call your first date, though neither of you knew it at the time. The memory makes you mourn for all this lost time, but…here he is, your stories aren’t over yet. You’ve been given more time together, though you don’t know how much, or to what end, or if it’s even possible to continue. Ignis cocks his head, hearing your pace falter.

“Is everything all—” The breath escapes him as you close your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind and burying your face in his back. You don’t have any more tears left to shed right now, but your words are thick nonetheless, muffled by his shirt.

“Ignis…I’ve missed you.” You feel his hands clasp your wrists resting on his stomach.

“Would you like to talk for a while before I begin cooking?” He asks gently.

“No, no I don’t have it in me just yet. Plus I actually am starving.” You sniffle and hug him closer for a beat. “I just…I never expected to see you again. It’s surreal. I’m…” You press your forehead hard into his back. “I’m so grateful.”

At your words, you feel Ignis melt into your inverted embrace, his own breathing becoming heavy.

“As am I.” He says. “It seems we must have done something right.”

“Yeah,” You say with a chuckle, releasing Ignis from your grasp. He turns in your arms before you can completely pull away and draws you into his chest, tucking his cheek into your hair and leaning both your weights against the counter behind him. You stay tenderly entwined for a few minutes in silence, just breathing.

Your stomach growls. Ignis lets out a sharp laugh and gently unlaces his arms from around you.

“Let’s take care of that, shall we?”

“Yeah,” You say again with a small laugh, reluctantly slipping out of the embrace and circling the counter to sit opposite Ignis and watch as he cooks. You wonder if he remembers what foods you like. You wouldn’t even blame him if he doesn’t, it’s been more than a decade since you last saw each other, and even then your time together, however loving, had been brief. You watch amazed at his skill with a knife, hardly distinguishable from that of a man with his sight intact.

“What smells good, Monica?” You turn to see Prompto poking his head into the kitchen, the quizzical look on his features bursting into enthusiasm when he sees who’s preparing the meal.

“Oh, YES, Iggy’s cooking! It’s been forev—”

“Prompto, I’m afraid this isn’t for you.” Ignis clips. You see Prompto’s face fall, and even though you hardly know him something in how genuinely disappointed his demeanor becomes makes you soften. You know what Ignis really wants is some quiet time with you, an atmosphere the endearing buzzy Prompto would innocently shatter.

“Ignis, you’re probably making more than I can eat, anyway. Let him have the leftovers, at least.”

“Very good. I’ll put your name on the bag, Prompto. I’m sure you can wait until we’ve…finished talking.” The pause seems to resonate with Prompto and understanding flutters through his eyes.

“Oh, did I interrupt a feelings jam? I’m sorry. That’s cool. Don’t mind me. Though in that case, I did want to poke around the fridge for a second if that’s oka—”

“Prompto.”

“I’ll be fast! You won’t even know I’m here, just in and out!”

Ignis sighs, his shoulders slackening in defeat.

“Go on, then.”

Prompto dashes around the kitchen and shuffles through the contents of the fridge for a few beats. Ignis resumes cooking as Prompto emerges with a juice packet clutched between his teeth, but you see a devilish glint in his eye as he slowly turns from the fridge, half unbuttoning the bulky Kingsglaive jacket to produce a camera on a lanyard around his neck. You smile instinctively as Prompto brings the camera to his eye and deftly turns the focus ring. You realize he’s lining up a shot of you and Ignis, halfway through making dinner to share. You blush, and as the camera clicks, Ignis rolls his head back, exasperated.

“Satisfied, Prompto?”

“Am now!” He says around the juice packet as he stows his camera back in his coat. “I’m looking forward to dinner, Iggy!” And with that he scuttles out of the kitchen, giving you a wide grin as he passes you on his way to the door, poking the straw into his drink.

You turn back to Ignis, his face still skyward.

“He’s my favorite.” You say endearingly.

“He doesn’t know how to read a room,” Ignis replies as he resumes cooking. “But I do admit he’s very, very good at lightening the mood. He’s Noct’s best friend for a reason; our King used to be rather stoic when he was younger. I imagine Prompto’s infectious energy did him some good. Don’t go telling Prompto this, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“That’s sweet of you,” You say as you watch Ignis work. “I won’t promise that, though.”

 

 

The curry bowl that Ignis produces is stunningly beautiful, especially considering how limited the ingredients here are.

“Ignis, this looks amazing.” You say enthusiastically. “And it’s amazing looking, too.”

“Presentation has always been my strong suit.”

You feel Ignis swell with pride as he crosses the room to you, carrying a bottle of ancient wine you’d found buried in the back of a cabinet. You cock a brow at this.

“I remember you not liking to drink much.” 

“We’re celebrating.” He says evenly, producing two glasses and filling them smoothly. “Cheers.”

You clink your glass with his and sip deeply. It’s been a while since you’ve had good alcohol. It’s in limited supply these days, along with some other mundanities you used to take for granted. Fruits and the like don’t grow too easily in the darkness.

You try to savor the curry; it’s really difficult not to wolf down. As Ignis eats his portion, he reaches into his pocket and produces a notebook, similar to the one you recall he had on his person in the past to take notes on dishes he liked. You watch, intrigued. Surely he could still write, but how could he read his notes?

As he opens the notebook to the ribbon marking the next blank page, you’re fascinated as he takes out not a pen, but a sharp stylus. The pages have been perforated with thousands of tiny dots, and Ignis swiftly punches out holes in the paper, making notes for himself in a language you can’t read. He runs his hand over the divots in the page once he’s finished, then flips his notebook closed.

“Not enough cayenne.” Is all he says as he slides the strange book back into his jacket.

“Ignis, you really are incredible.” You say, awestruck. He smiles warmly.

“Dinner isn’t anything that remarkable, surely.” He teases, but you know he knows what you mean.

“Ignis,” You say, pushing your leftovers to the side for Prompto and fiddling with the napkin in your lap. “Can you tell me what happened?”

He stiffens, but doesn’t hesitate longer than a breath.

“I found myself cornered by Ardyn.”

Your insides go cold. You didn’t know what Ardyn is at the fall of Insomnia. You’ve since learned. You feel rage, concentrated and venomous, build in your throat.

“He did this to you?” You say evenly, but there’s a blackness in your tone that makes Ignis reach for your hand.

“No, love, I did this to myself. All told, I’m lucky to be alive.” He pauses, considering his next words. “Altissia had fallen. Lady Lunafreya was dead, Noct was unconscious, I didn’t know where Prompto or Gladio were. And…I had the Ring of the Lucii.”

You shudder, suddenly feeling tears well in your eyes. He’s right. He is lucky to be alive.

“Oh…oh, you damned idiot,”

“I was. I am. But I saw no other way. I did what I had to do to save Noctis.”

“But…the Kings of Lucis found you worthy.”

“So it would seem. At least enough to let me keep my life.”

You feel a sudden flicker of nervousness in Ignis’ presence, like he is much, much more powerful than you’d ever known or thought him to be.

“What…what did it feel like?”

“I love your questions. They always catch me off guard.” He says lovingly, but you can tell he’s thinking carefully about what to say as a gentle frown settles between his brows.

“It burned.” He murmurs simply. A sob wells up in your throat, feeling your heart ache in your chest for him as he continues, “It was a new sensation, truth be told. I’ve always had a resistance, ever since I began learning to handle fire. It actually made me respect it more, feeling what it does to others. It felt like…like my soul was suddenly too hot for my body to contain, like I was harboring a sun within me. And the only way I could think to mitigate the burning was to just…release it from my body. My hands, my eyes. As it would turn out, having the power of the crystal concentrated into your body makes for some impressive firepower.”

You manage a chuckle.

“I bet it looked sexy,” You murmur, poking him in the side and trying to bring some levity back into your reunion. He snorts, smirking.

“You’d have to ask Ardyn as he’s the only witness, though I expect he’d say anything to toy with me. As it were though, hindsight does tend to make life-threatening maneuvers quite aphrodisiacal.” He grins, a little flirtatiously. You know he’s had ten years to come to terms with the consequences of his actions, but you’re still struck by how he’s able to smile about it now.

“Weren’t…were you afraid?" You murmur, the words slipping almost unbidden from your mouth. Ignis stiffens, his fingers interlaced with yours on the countertop tightening their grip.

"More than I thought possible," He says soberly, quietly. "Not for myself, not really, though I still..." He swallows, scarred brows furrowing. "...Though I was prepared to do so, I still didn't want to die there alone. Blessedly—somehow—that didn't come to pass, but in the moments where I was afraid, it was because...what if I couldn't protect Noct? I couldn’t be there to protect you during the fall of Insomnia—the chaos of which I wasn't even there to witness, but Altissia's fall was...apocalyptic. And I was just..." He bows his head a little, his words wavering and causing him to pause and clear his throat. Your heart clenches again, and you rest your free hand on his forearm and squeeze reassuringly. You shouldn’t press him further, if not for his sake then for yours. It hurts to think of him in pain like that.

"You don't have to talk about it, Iggy. I shouldn't have asked—”

"No, it's fine. I'm glad to recount everything to you, if for no other reason than you deserve to know the man I am now, and how I became so."

Your stomach drops, reminded again just how much time has passed. You swallow and slowly slide your hands from his grasp, locking your fingers together in your lap.

“Reconnecting would be kind of a project, wouldn’t it?" Your face falls, "If, I guess…if that's what you want. I wouldn't even blame you if it’s not. I guess I don’t even know if that’s what _I_ want. I know that kiss back there was pretty heat-of-the-moment, and looking at the way bigger picture…well, you’ve got a king to protect and a world to help save—”

"As do you," He says, turning to you despite being unable to meet your gaze wholly. "The years in this world have surely changed you as well; yours is also the duty to help save Eos."

"Ignis," You say, throat suddenly tight. "I am so grateful you're alive, and I…I-I mean, we have…we’ve been given more time, but…” You toy with the edge of your bowl, letting yourramshackle sentence hang, suddenly a little heartbroken.

"Can we really just pick up where we left off?" He finishes your sentiment, and you nod before a stab in your gut reminds you that won't be effective. Your voice is quiet and your breathing shallow as you ask, 

"Is it even possible, after all this time? After everything that's happened?" 

"I never stopped loving you." He says, and you feel the precursor to tears prick in your eyes. "However improbable or unreasonable, after all this time and all that's happened, that remains."

The tears fall. 

"You dumb romantic nerd," You say thickly, and Ignis lets out a tight chuckle. 

"We've received our King's blessing, love. Surely that wards against any loss of smoothness that might have happened on my part in the last ten years."

"You needed a blessing to sharpen your flirt game?" You say, wiping your tears on the heel of your palm and trying to summon a smile. "Couldn't you just have practiced a little?"

"There's been no one else." He says evenly. Your diaphragm constricts again, threatening to bring on a stronger wave of tears.

"That wasn't what—”

"I know." He rubs his own tears from his eyes and cautiously leans forward, gently pressing his forehead to yours. "But I want you to know there's only ever been you. I've only ever been yours. I understand that the version of you I fell in love with might be past, but if you'll have me, I would reintroduce myself. You're right that reconnecting would not be a straightforward endeavor, and surely now—the most crucial point in Noct’s life, for which I must remain steadfast when the time comes—isn’t the ideal time for rekindling what we had…but…for now…do you wish to try?"

Your days have been black for ten years. The miasmic sky has been slowly suffocating you and your comrades, robbing your mind steadily of your sense of time, the weariness of living every day in the dark under a literal blanket of impenetrable blackness weakening your soul. You feel it in your bones, every day, just a little bit more of the dark permeates you, Scourge contracted or no—you sense the death around you like the plague it is, seeking to disorient you, poison you, cause you to lose sight of what it is you’re fighting to reclaim. Holding back the Scourge as best you could for as long as you have, it’s been an uphill battle for years: fighting to remember what the sun feels like on your skin, what the light shining through leaves dappled on the grass looks like, what it is you want to reclaim from the Scourge.

It’s more than the sky you want back. You want back warmth and light and love and life. And Ignis makes you remember, all at once, what they feel like.

Your lips quiver, eyes shining and throat tight, and barely above a whisper, you confess what you know in your heart that you want, despite what the circumstance of the world around you would convince you as impossible to achieve. 

"I do...please, yes."

His brows peak, somewhere between relief and love. He offers you his hand, and for a moment you're unsure what he wants as you slip your fingers around his. 

"Ignis Scientia," He says evenly around a soft smile, shaking your hand. "Quite charmed."

Your throat closes around a sob and you throw your arms around him in a graceless embrace, nearly tipping both of you off your chairs. Ignis crushes you to him regardless and buries his face in your hair as you cry into his chest, filled with a confusing cocktail of emotions: relief, love, fear, disbelief, sadness, joy...your sobs turn to a helpless display of overwhelmed, tearful gasps, and you feel Ignis' breath shuddering around his own tears as he cups the back of your head and presses you gently, lovingly, reassuringly to his chest. You let your overwhelmed, confused sobs wracking your body vibrate through him, allowing his solidity against you to absorb what he can, siphoning off some of your subsequent exhaustion, bringing your tears down a steady decline until you're both just clutching each other weakly, breath heavy and voices rasped. 

"That was cathartic," He mumbles into your hair. "I didn't know I needed this." You giggle weakly, wiping your eyes and sniffling. He continues, "What should we do?"

You chew your lip against his chest for a moment. 

"I just...want more of this, right now," You say, pulling him closer back into a proper embrace. 

"Good, so do I." He hums, stroking his fingers through your hair. "Do you want to move to a bed? A couch?" 

"Maybe in a minute," You say against his vest. "I still need to shower and stuff before I can sleep, and I'm not ready to go away from you to go do that just yet."

"I could accompany you?" He says readily, and a flush rises to your cheeks. 

"Flirt."

"Like I said, credit where Noct deserves, I've got a ward against striking out with you," He grins broadly, and you all at once are reminded of the charm of his full smile. Your heart flutters in a way you haven't felt in a decade. So, the embers never really went out, did they? You cup his jaw and press your lips to his, the breath around this kiss filled with what the whole of Eos needs, but what you get to hold in your heart in this moment; a tiny splinter of what, if compounded and gathered and cultivated, could banish the darkness...

You're filled with warmth and light and love…you’re filled with hope.

 


End file.
